


Cold

by bakemonochrome



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:43:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2181870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakemonochrome/pseuds/bakemonochrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Sai needs to understand, even if it hurts. Post-war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

It is cold and wet and damp, and this, _surprisingly_ , doesn't bother him. No, surprising is not the word. He's not good with this, with things that require feeling over rational thought, so being thrust into a world that thrives on emotional impulses proves difficult. But this isn't right; can't be right. Somehow, Sai can feel it. Shockingly, he ponders, but then thinks better of it. They mean the same thing after all. _Perhaps strangely?_ But this too feels wrong and he casts it aside with a shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders.

Once again he's digressing, venturing to a place he doesn't belong. He clears his head. He takes a deep breath. He touches the snow beneath his feet reverently. Sai pats black mitts into white snow; slowly at first, cautiously, but more secure with time. There's a slight shake of his shoulders as the cold overtakes him, but it's faint and it's small and he knows will go unnoticed unless one is looking for it.

In the beginning his hands are delicate. He touches the snow as if it's something dangerous, something that shouldn't be tampered with at all costs. He recoils. He touches. He recoils. He touches. And for a while he continues this way. He's just there; stooping over the pale substance like it's truly the eighth wonder of the world. Eyebrows twitch over in firm concentration. Lips protrude subconsciously. He paws the snow like a newborn fawn taking its first, shaky steps.

_Amazingly_ , this doesn't bother him. (No, that's not quite right either, but for the life of him he can't think of anything better so it'll have to do.) He pokes a finger into the snow, feels the cold, wetness through his gloves, the soft, kind, texture that he'd never thought could be associated with something like it and feels eyes spread – to his standards – wide.

It's in the middle that wispy touches become stiff and solid. He grips the snow now; harder, firmer, with a faint spark in his eyes that is an emotion hard to recognize. Instead of light touches it's undergoing a kneading motion. The snow sloshes and churns under his hands like volatile putty. And it's because he can control it that his lips upturn slightly. Something so inconceivable can be controlled by a boy like him. This is reason enough to smile.

"What'd you got there, Sai?"

But snow does not befit a shinobi. It does not know to be quiet when the situation demands it. It can't deftly exterminate a threat or dodge a flying kunai. Unlike Sai it serves no purpose. And that's why he and snow are natural enemies, will always be enemies, and the moments when he illusions himself into thinking otherwise pass by like the wind. It has no reason to exist, it just does. And for Sai, the little boy with hair as black as the shadows that envelope him, it'll only give him away.

"Snow."

So when he hears the familiar crunch, crunch of snow underfoot he is not Sai. He is once again the child with no name, Danzo's favorite tool. He's alert and focused and ready to obey any order given to him, all for the sake of supporting the great tree of Konohagakure. His fingers rise, curl around the hilt of an imaginary tanto while his eyes shift upwards. But instead of a rogue shinobi he is greeted with brown hair and dark, fathomless eyes. Yamato offers him a smile that Sai wishes he could reproduce so easily and comes to stoop down beside him.

"Snow?" Yamato asks.

"Yes." It is the matter of fact, blunt, way in which he says it that leads to quiet, but for once he prefers it this way; because black is no longer touching white. Calloused hands engulfed by gloves as dark as night have stilled over pearly white icicles. And he can't move. His fingers have stilled and he can't move an inch.

"Sai, are you alright?" Yamato is coming closer now. He's staring at Sai's hands, at the feeble tremor that seems to overtake them. Fingers like clawed talons greet his eyes.

"I am sorry taichou. I do not have an answer to your proposal yet," he blurts out, because it's the first thing he can think of and his fingers won't move and panic is rising up in his throat so thick he thinks he'll choke. "If I could only have more time I'd be able to properly process and analyze your request. Though I am a little confused as to why you'd want to….what was the word you used?….."date"me in the first place. Aren't sexual bonds normally cultivated between members of both sexes?"

It is stolid eyes that stare up into a Yamato that has gone pink around the edges and it is Sai's artist eye that has the peculiar thought that he'd like to paint him. He looks at his captain and frowns. Yamato then returns the gesture with a cheek rub, smile, and a laugh Sai can only describe as 'forced'. It's then that Sai notices the stitched over eyebrows, the way Yamato's eyes dart which away as if he's looking for something Sai can't see. When he speaks it's with a voice not as confident as before and Sai begins to wonder why.

"Ah, I didn't really come for that…but to answer your question, not all the time," he starts. Eyes cast down as his team leader takes a deep breath. "Everyone's different. Everyone feels differently. Well, what I'm trying to say is everyone has different preferences. Heterosexual relationships are what's common, but same sex ones are just as…fine."

Sai tilts his head to the side. "I do not understand. Sexual relationships are all about reproduction, correct?"

Once again Yamato scratches his cheek, something he's been doing frequently since a few days ago, since he told the ex-Root about his interest in him, Sai notes. It puzzles the artist nin, but when it comes to social interactions it isn't strange for him to be perplexed. Is this, what one would call, embarrassed?, he thinks, recalling a time that Naruto had done the same mannerism wilts proposing that Sakura and he go for ramen together. The blonde's cheeks had turned the same rosy hue Yamato's was changing now. But it was true that the cold could do this also, and Sai is confused once more.

"You know, Sai," Yamato says, "sexual relation….er, dating isn't all about making, well, offspring. People date because they're interested in getting to know one another better, romantically. There's a big difference between friends and being romantically interested." His captain gestures his hands in such a way that suggests friendship and romance are on two completely different sides of the spectrum.

"But how do you know you're romantically interested in me?" Sai replies, because he has read that coming across this sort of conclusion is difficult, even for those who were not stunted emotionally such as himself.

It is when Yamato laughs one of those embarrassed laughs of his that Sai decides that maybe his question was sort of idiotic. "Well, it's not something you can explain." There's a pause as Yamato once again rubs the side of his cheek. The ex-Root is now certain that his team leader is feeling abashed. "You just sort of feel it, if that makes sense."

But it doesn't make sense and Sai has started to think it never will. A wide range of emotions come over the raven's face, those he can't even begin to distinguish. Asking him to just feel is like asking the dead to come back to life. "But there are so many emotions, some I haven't even experienced yet. What sort of feeling is it? How will I know when I feel it? How do I know if I too am romantically interested in you?" Sai's hands are raised now. No longer are they violent weapons poised at his sides. He's gesturing towards himself, something that he hadn't even thought about. For once his hands had moved of their own accord.

Next comes the silence, a quiet that seems to suffocate. Sai does not look up from the snow and Yamato does not look away from a tree branch that has become all too interesting. There's a sort of wind whistling in the background, but it too has seemed to quiet for the two.

"Yamato-taichou, I appreciate your feelings," Sai says after so long without speech, "but I doubt I'll be able to reciprocate them. Or anyone's for that matter." His teeth are grinding together, but he doesn't know why, though right now this isn't the biggest issue. "If I may reiterate, you are correct. In my researching of courtship and friendship I have found they are completely different things. I have read about how strong an emotion love is, how it can change people and make you do things you normally wouldn't do. Naruto has shown me this many times." Sai scrunches his eyes slightly, like he's trying hard to see through a dark cave. "But I still can't…..feel properly. How am I supposed to feel something so intense, so strong, and be able to identify it as what it is?" He stops abruptly, looking for words that he knows he won't find. "Yamato-taichou, I can't-"

There's a hand on his head, one that's big and strong and Sai thinks the word can only be reassuring. It ruffles his hair. It moves through his scalp. Sai feels fingers so warm, so alive move through black locks. And for some reason he doesn't mind. He just stares ahead with an expression that makes him confused.

But then he's remembering. He's remembering feelings of anticipation, sitting inside and peering out windows as winter's rain falls and makes the world its home. He's remembering smiling smiles that come so naturally, bouncing on heels with so much vigor that his brother jokes he'll topple over. He's remembering being patted on the head, being told to wait a minute, get his coat and mitts and gloves on before he catches a cold. And then he's running outside at top speed, yelling loud and hard until he can't yell anymore as little feet stomp in snow and mouths grin wide when Shin decides to join in. He's five again; before the repression training, before emotions were banned or something as simple as snow was discouraged because there is too much feeling invested into it.

_He's gone back to a time so simple it hurts._

Funny, he hadn't noticed looking down. Feelings so strong had overtaken him that his mind is disoriented, that his body had moved of its own accord. This is his only justification. His hands are gripping something as if for dear life and this is the only explanation he can fabricate.

As black eyes come back into focus all he can see is white, and at first he believes it to be snow. But it's not. This soft, warm, material can't be something as bitterly freezing as snow. And then he's looking down, noticing the way his fingers clasp the cuff of Yamato's shirt. He looks up and into almond shaped eyes that hold….concern for him.

"Sorry," he says, and releases.

"Well, it's only been three days, Sai; no need to rush. Honestly, I didn't expect an answer this early along anyway," Yamato says. "I get it. This is all new for you. But it's not like you've got to figure it out all on your own. If you've got more questions I'd be more than happy to answer them as best I can, and I'm sure they're more people around here that'd do the same." Yamato gives him a smile Sai can only describe as warm. "No need to worry."

His eyes are widening, his pulse is quickening. Sai watches emotions play in Yamato's eyes that he can't distinguish. It's too much; this feeling is just too much for someone like Sai – someone who tries so hard to function in this emotionally driven society – to handle. So when Naruto and the others drop by with a resounding "YO!" beckoning him to come over and play in the snow with them Sai stands, brushes snow off his garments and gives Yamato a smile that he hopes is emotionally correct for the situation.

"Thank you, Yamato-taichou," he says, and he finds the more time he spends in Konoha the more he means it. Y

amato doesn't look at him. Instead his eyes are fixed on the snow at his feet. "I'm not expecting you to return my feelings, Sai. Honestly, if you don't I'll understand. I just want you to be happy, okay?"

"Alright," Sai says, and runs off into the snow.

Yamato watches him go, smiles at the way Sai jogs over and the way his hair flops with him. He looks at Sai's reddened cheeks from the cold and tries his best not to hope that he, also, was an underlying factor in that rosy hue. God, I'm ridiculous.

"Well, well, didn't think you had it in you, taichou." Yamato is glaring even before his eyes meet with Kakashi's.

"This is your fault, you know?" He pulls his sweater high over his mouth and averts his eyes in an attempt to hide.

"God, why'd I let you talk me into this?"

"Oh, come on Tenzou, he was totally digging you."

"He ran off!"

"But did you see that cute little blush on his face. He's as good as yours."

"It's too soon to hope for anything," Yamato says with a sigh of his own. "I'm just gonna let him figure everything else out by himself. He deserves that much."

"Good on you." Yamato feels a hand on his shoulder and sighs. "He'll come around, Tenzou."

"Senpai, please stop calling me tha−−wait, have you been standing here this whole time?"

* * *

 

In the end his hands are kind, a gentle kindness he wasn't aware he possessed. He touches the snow in a way that suggests they're old friends, like they've known each other for a long time. He's cupping it in his hands now, rolling it over and over so it'll become a small ball and then releasing it only when Naruto gives him the signal. White flies against a pale blue sky as Sai smiles wide and dodges an oncoming snowball thrown by a certain Uchiha. To his left an 'oof' is heard as Sakura uses her inhuman strength to launch a snowball at a unsuspecting blonde.

It is cold and wet and damp, and this, _pleasantly_ , doesn't bother him. Yes, that's good. That fits perfectly.

_Pleasantly._


End file.
